Wednesday, January 18, 2006

I Have My Green Card Nowdon't tell me how a people string together thoughts on a beach of content keeps washing up shells and seaweed and dead things they stay for easy pickings in sentence structures the caw caw caw of slang banging into rocks

when I lived in Hungarian my mother tongue more of a step-mother who was married to someone I never knew there were hundreds of words for horses their smell, color, earth at a certain time of day or after a rain I knew where my tongue wrapped around shaped language with loam and light but now I've hit everything the ground running with English how many times in one year malls coupons ATM's express accounts can one person open because I've loaned my soul to the devil and I'm getting no interest

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

CellPhone Poem 17: Extra MinutesBusiness centers confronteach continental shelf,each wave of waterfrom my cubicleto your global positioning device,a world drawing in upon itselftighter under pressureas we turninto carbon diamonds carbondiamonds wearing headphonesspeaking with instant translatorsembedded on the edge of a bluetoothlook Mom no cavitiesno more countrieseverything a borderlandbeneath the freewaybordering on something elseon something else on something elsewhere time is a rerunin a new slot gameand we apple and orange through the bling bling of it all.

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Cannibal MemoriesWhere will I go to talk to you now that the house has closed and I no longer have the keys or can use the excuse of checking the mail to see if the honeysuckle has started to bloom or if daises are starting to grow after everything front and back yard was leveled?

Where will I go to speak your name now that there’s no place after you died in the front room of the house with glasses of soda, tissues, and a standing orchestra of pill bottles that did not cheer those itinerant trips between your room and the bathroom, your room and the kitchen?

How can I locate you in my cannibal memories and in the things I’ve carried to my next landing: candles, bells, necklaces, a file cabinet, me?